


You Promised

by Zebeyithra



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Hurt, Present Tense, Skyhold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 18:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4069414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zebeyithra/pseuds/Zebeyithra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Diana Trevelyan returns to Skyhold after a difficult journey, only to be confronted with the responsibility of her words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Promised

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this on FanFiction, but with "Little Melody" underway, I wanted to consolidate her story onto here fully. Mention of death, but no major spoilers. Thank you and please review/comment!

  Diana Trevelyan nearly collapses as she crosses the threshold of Skyhold, shear exhaustion settling into her limbs. Several of her companions reach for her, but it is Cole who senses her faltering before the others. The pale youth seems to appear under her arm and supports her until Iron Bull lifts her. he cradles her like a child before carrying her into the courtyard. The crowd of soldiers gasp, worried that this arrival would become a dirge, but Diana waves. A collective sigh travels along the air.

 The relief is nearly contagious, smiles and laughter filling the keep before a keening cry cuts the air. All else falls silent and the crowd parts, searching for the source. It takes a few moments, but a large berth is soon given to a small boy, dressed in well-worn hand-me-downs. His skin is pink in the mountain air, giving stark contrast to his dark hair. Diana can't help but think that he looks like--She freezes in Iron Bull's arms, making him tense. A shrouded figure on a pallet lays at the boys feet, the white linen pulled back to show one of the soldiers. His father.

 “YOU!” The boy points, screaming and crying at the Inquisitor. By now, all of Skyhold has entered the courtyard to see the commotion. Diana’s advisors have even left their haunts to see the source of the agitation. Leliana and Josephine watch as Cullen advances, ready to defend. Diana hears the shuffle of feet around her as the boy raises a finger, singling her out from the rest of the crowd.

 “YOU PROMISED!” The boy’s accusations ring off the stone walls, chilling them all to the bone. Diana pats Bull’s arm. He takes a moment before gently lowers her to her feet, letting Cullen support her at her elbow. Diana gives Cullen a look, but he stays on guard, his fur pauldrons bristling like a mane around his head. The boy advances on the Inquisitor, small fists balled at his sides.

 “You promised you’d keep Pa safe!” The child hisses and Diana stumbles, saved only by Cullen’s firm hold. Diana can see Cole out of the edge of her vision, but she shakes her head. Cole frowns but keeps his distance.

 “What are you talking about?” Cullen asks, stepping between the youth and the mage. Diana’s legs tremble as Cullen steps away, leaving the chill wind to rip at her again. The boy’s eyes sear in anger.

 “Before she left! I asked her to protect my Pa! She said she would! She promised! She said-” The boy’s increasing screams are cut short by the Inquisitor’s thin, tired voice.

 “That I would try.” Her voice is a sigh, almost imperceptible yet firm. Cullen faces her as Iron Bull steps back, almost sensing the energy crackling around her. Diana limps towards the boy, pulling what little energy she has into moving forward. She makes three strides before falling to her knees, the skirt of her robes pressing into the newly trodden mud. She is at the boy’s height, eye to eye as he nearly runs into her. They stare for a moment, silent. “I tried and I failed. I’m sorry.” Her lips barely move enough to say the words, a single tear freezing on her cheek. The boy pouts, looking at his feet before returning his glare to her gaze.

 “You didn’t try hard enough.” His accusation is punctuated as he throws a well-aimed punch, landing on her jaw. Diana throws a hand out to steady herself, her other arm thrown behind her to keep her allies from charging them. Slowly, she returns to her knees, watching the boy. 

 “I’m sorry.” The words barely leave her lips before he punches the other side of her face. Diana seems to expect this, letting the punch roll off her chin. She gives him a moment, letting him stare and pant and fume. “I’m sorry, Michael.”

 He screams, flying into a rage, a flurry of fists and tears. Diana takes a few more punishments before throwing her arms out, catching Michael in a bear hug. Michael screams, biting at her clothed arms. He throws his head back, splitting her lip against her teeth. Diana is unmoved, just repeating her weary mantra, “I’m sorry.”

 It takes what seems an eternity before he clings to her, burying his face into the cloud-like collar of her robes. He sobs into her ear, repeating her words back. They chorus each other, a harmony of “I’m sorry” falling into tears and sobs. A Sister finally steps forward, prying the boy out of Diana’s arms. Leliana and Josephine are by her side in a moment, the rest of her party creating a bubble around them. 

 “I’m so sorry. I promised him. He came and found me and I promised,” Diana sobs, hands clawing into the mud at her knees. Her face is drenched in tears and blood. The wounds of her battle, both recent and later, are starting to drain her. It takes only a minute more before Cole makes a noise, making Dorian lunge for her shoulders. Diana’s eyes roll back and she falls unconscious, hands finally not wringing. 

 “Help me carry her to her room,” Dorian says softly to Iron Bull needlessly--He has already scooped her up off the ground. Josephine is a flurry of hands and commands, ordering preparations for the Inquisitor’s room.

 

* * *

 

 

 “Well, that was quite the show, wouldn’t you agree, Josie?” Leliana is seated on the edge of Josephine’s desk, watching the Ambassador’s scheming. Cullen is standing at the fireplace, watching the flames dance and throw light. 

 “Not so much a show as an event, I would think. Word is already spreading that the Inquisitor is just like anyone else, yet more pious. She may have been just being kind, but she just became that much more normal,” Josephine smiles, sharing a glance with the perched Nightingale before both turning their gazes to the entranced Commander. His hand rests on the fireplace’s mantel, the gears visibly turning in his head. “Your view, Cullen? You were right there.”

 “Why did she let him beat on her? The healers have already said her face will be bruised and her lip might even scar. And she refused to take anything to heal it faster. She makes no sense, I swear!” His brows knit, looking over to the pair. The women smile at him, making him turn to face them. “What?” They share a laugh before Leliana crosses the room to him. 

 “That is a woman who wanted to be punished, the poor girl. She feels as if his death is actually her fault.” Cullen’s huff of frustration makes the women share another glance. 

 “But now that boy-”

 “Has been comforted by the Inquisitor. She has a natural motherly instinct. She wasn’t going to let it go to waste,” Josephine sighs, setting her quill down for once. Cullen nearly freezes, replaying the scene in his mind.

 “Motherly?” 

   “Oh, don’t hurt yourself, Commander.”


End file.
